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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26155096">In the Woods Somewhere</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedperspective/pseuds/jadedperspective'>jadedperspective</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>5 Seconds of Summer (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, Murder Husbands, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, This is an AU so both characters are freeform really, amoral fiction, but then they have each other so it’s okay, depictions of violence, raposa means fox in portuguese which is a reference to the song this is inspired by, they go for a nice lil picnic before everything goes to shit, this isn't a happy story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:33:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26155096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedperspective/pseuds/jadedperspective</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Calum and Ashton leave the city to celebrate their first year anniversary at a secluded cabin in the woods, but what begins as a peaceful weekend getaway quickly devolves into a disturbing reality where they must face who they truly are.</p><p>(a creepy cabin AU)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In the Woods Somewhere</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Music hummed low throughout the vehicle as Ashton carefully navigated the narrow road. The October air seemed to seep through the vehicle, fogging up the windows as Calum turned up the heat. They drove without directions, following the path that would take them to the isolated cabin that had belonged to Ashton’s family for generations. The place had been used mostly for fishing and hunting trips and occasionally a weekend getaway, as they had planned now.</p><p>The paved road turned to gravel as they drove, leading up and around a hill. The increasingly steep ravine was covered with large boulders and sharp stones and Calum noted that if he stepped outside his door he would fall, most likely slipping through the underbrush until he plunged into the frigid river below. He shivered at the thought.</p><p>The thick canopy of trees broke open, finally revealing the cabin. It was remote to the city, set upon a smooth stream that likely carried sizable trout in the fall. Calum climbed out of the car and was hit by the cool and clean air, so much different from the usual smog of the city. Ashton walked toward the house and unlocked the heavy wooden door, swinging it inward in a cloud of dust. Despite the house’s weary appearance, the interior wasn’t too bad, all the appliances were fully functional and Calum had been told that there was hot water.</p><p>Calum helped Ashton carry in the luggage from the trunk. They had packed light, a bag each, since they only planned on staying the weekend. They started with the food, bringing in the bags of groceries to unpack.</p><p>“Hey, babe?” Calum called out the open door. “Will you grab my phone? I think I left it on my seat.” He turned back into the kitchen placing some perishables in the refrigerator and unloading plums into a wooden bowl.</p><p>Ashton entered through the open door, Calum’s duffel bag in hand. “Are you sure you left it in the car? It wasn’t there.”</p><p>The familiar feeling of forgetting something filled him, a cold draft that swept through his limbs and dropped hard into his stomach. “Oh.” Calum turned to him, plastering a smile on. “I must have left it at home. I guess… never mind.”</p><p>Ashton wrapped an arm around him and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We’ll be fine, if you need to call anyone there’s a landline down the road. But why would you need to? You’re with me.”</p><p>Calum nodded, nudging him away to finish placing the groceries on the counter and into the short fridge. The layout of the cabin was simple, the front door led into the kitchen and living space and a short hallway in the back met with the doors to the bedroom and bathroom.</p><p>“Do you want to go on that hike we talked about? It’s just down the road and I think we have a couple hours of light left.” Ashton asked, entering the kitchen from the bedroom.</p><p>“Oh. Uh, sure.” Calum replied. He was hesitant, and if Ashton had asked why, he would have said that he simply didn’t want to walk the muddy trails in the frosty weather. When the truth was, that the woods, replete with towering trees and uncertain landmarks, made him uneasy. He had been lost in the woods before, not for more than a few hours, but he was still afraid of never finding his way back on the twisting paths.</p><p>Ashton grinned at him. “Okay, I’ll just grab a few things and then we can go.”</p><p>-</p><p>They took an overgrown dirt path winding away from the house into the woods, Calum walking behind Ashton, huffing quietly as the hill inclined. His eyes were unfocused on the trail before him, ignorant of the mud squelching beneath his shoes and the forest features crowding in on them.</p><p>Ashton had planned this getaway as a surprise for their one year anniversary. They had certainly come a long way since their first acquaintance, Calum remembers Ashton’s shy invitation spoken over the turbulence of a high school party and the following awkward date. They had parted ways indefinitely afterward, only meeting again years later at a friend’s birthday party. Immediately they had reconnected, easily falling into a solitary rhythm that suited them both. </p><p>Calum could talk to him for hours or sit in silence and find equal contentment. He was sometimes bored stiff around other people, and while he did his best, small talk wrung him out and left him feeling like a small, crusty dishtowel. It was never like that with Ashton. Calum knew there was a perceptible difference between when he was with his partner than with anyone else, a level of stability and easiness that they had only found together.</p><p>So, he was not discontent with his life, after all, he had friends, a steady job, and… well, he <em>did</em> feel like something was missing. It troubled him to put his finger on it, eluding him in the odd hours when it would prod at his mind. He didn’t acknowledge the feeling very often, hadn’t even noticed it for the longest time, but occasionally, late in the evening when he stared into an open flame or heard children screaming in the streets - playing recklessly with their lives - Calum would feel it in the back of his mind, and in his chest, something ugly and cancerous. But like most impending disasters in his life, Calum tended to ignore it, willing to ride the pendulum that pulled him away from the feeling and back to reality.</p><p>After another busy day at work Calum would come home and mindlessly turn to the TV, eating poorly reheated leftovers over the quiet drone of the actor's voices. He would mostly watch dark dramas and true crime investigations, afterwards finding himself disorientated, tired from the late hour and stuck in his head, unable to ignore the bubbling in his lower stomach as he brushed his teeth. Sometimes he found himself acting as if he was a character from the television, showering and eating in their name, as if he was the one to have brutally killed a person on screen. </p><p>He couldn’t - or knew he shouldn’t examine his feelings. They were intense and exciting and it felt wrong repressing them but he knew it was something he shouldn’t be feeling. It was something he shouldn’t <em>want</em> to feel. Sequentially, he would reprimand himself and push the thoughts away until their inevitable return.</p><p>Before Ashton, Calum's life felt off-center, tilted, as if the glasses resting on the face of his worldview were bent crooked. He had been a bit of a mess to be honest. He had truly hated his job and his coworkers, who had all eventually tried prying themselves into his personal life, acting as if he owed them something. The friends Calum did have were insecure and didn't take the time to understand him. It wasn’t that long ago that his mother would weigh on him about settling down and living the life that she wanted. </p><p>He had been sick of everything, stagnant in self-loathing, and he was drowning and hadn’t known how to push forward to break the surface. Ashton had provided him clarity and helped Calum change his circumstances for the better.</p><p>Their relationship was simple, they held each other tight and close, grasped in steady and firm palms, assured the other wouldn’t let go. Calum was no longer alone, he wasn’t afraid of the future, and he was understood beyond force and conflict. </p><p>and that was that.</p><p>The hike turned out to be an easy climb, taking them to a ridge overlooking the valley and back around to the makeshift trailhead. It started to rain on their way back, the thick drops soaking through the flannel Calum was wearing and covering his legs in mud, tracking up his shoes and calves. Ashton promised he would build a fire and stir together some coffee once they got back.</p><p>Upon returning to the cabin the rain had begun to ease up, but it was dark and the front porch was easily shrouded in the evening light. Ashton struggled in the darkness to open the door, rattling the old handle as he kicked at the wood. For a moment Calum feared they would be locked out in the cold, but the door finally opened, giving a last defiant and squealing grate.</p><p>Once they had properly sequestered themselves inside, dry and changed into warmer clothing, Calum moved into the living room, sitting in front of the open fireplace. As promised, a fire had been made and it washed out waves of heat with each lick of the flames. Ashton sat beside him, a cup of dark coffee in each hand, offering one to Calum. He took it, grateful for the warmth it transferred to his cold fingers.</p><p>“Thanks.” Calum sipped from the mug and hummed in contentment.</p><p>“Being caught in the rain probably isn’t the best introduction to this place but I hope you’ll eventually see its merits,” Ashton said.</p><p>“Suppose if I must,” He said with an exaggerated sigh, hiding his smile behind his cup, the words echoing back to him off of the surface.</p><p>“Oh, c’mon.”</p><p>Calum shrugged, his shoulders shaking a bit as he laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s nice. And I do like it, even more because you do. You told me your grandpa used to bring you here, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, for fishing trips and stuff. It always rained on us, too.” Ashton laughed lightly. </p><p>They were silent for a few minutes, each sipping their coffee. </p><p>Ashton cleared his throat and Calum looked over to him, seeing his considerate hazel eyes become lost in the reflection of the flames. “I always feel different when it rains, it’s like a new start.” </p><p>Calum only listened, knowing if he waited Ashton would keep talking, automatically filling the silence. Ashton glanced at him, drinking his coffee before speaking again. “Sometimes I forget that you’re different from everyone else, that I can be honest when I tell you things.”</p><p>“You can always be honest with me,” Calum assured him.</p><p>Ashton bumped Calum’s knee with his own, smiling gratefully at him. An overwhelming feeling rose in Calum's chest, and he ignored it to stare into his coffee.</p><p>Ashton set his cup down before picking it back up idly, looking for something to distract himself. “I think I’ve always…” He sighed deeply, “always felt like I have too much to give, and I want to really impact someone’s life but I just don’t know <em>how</em> to. I think I come on too strong, or I do too much too soon, or in an attempt to connect I ask for something disallowed. But if I could just, help someone, even for a moment…” He let out a frustrated noise. “I just always seem to mess it up.”</p><p>“You have me. You’ve made me better.” An expression crossed Ashton’s face and Calum knew what he wouldn’t say,</p><p>
  <em>That isn’t enough.</em>
</p><p>Calum wasn’t enough. </p><p>Perhaps he should have felt hurt by that, indignantly asking Ashton to make promises he couldn’t possibly keep, forcing him to lie and admit that Calum was enough. But he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth, to incite discourse between them. Instead, he dragged his heavy hands and stiff with cold limbs into his partner’s ready embrace. It wasn’t the first time Calum had traded a few unsaid, yet imperative, words between them for action. He always found it easier to kiss Ashton than to tell him that he loved him.</p><p>Calum pulled himself closer to Ashton, coffee out of hand, and one leg halfway in his lap. The apprehensive look in Ashton’s eyes told Calum that he knew what was happening and wasn’t going to stop him. But Calum still quietly asked for permission, by placing a small kiss on Ashton’s lips. Ashton yielded, kissing back softly.</p><p>What he meant to say was, <em>I love you</em>, but instead, he kissed Ashton on the lips. Calum wanted to thank him for being there, so he gently pressed his mouth to Ashton’s cheek and jaw. Calum needed to tell Ashton how important he was to him but he didn’t know how, so he left a trail of warm kisses down his neck and across his collarbones.</p><p>It wasn’t enough, he knew that, or below the surface level, he knew it. Ashton had so much more he wanted to give and Calum wanted to take and take but it wasn’t enough. Between them, they couldn’t actualize the right kind of exchange. </p><p>But something different was coming, a manipulating force to lead them to a permanent end. Soon the unequal desires they both felt would be balanced. Ashton would discover how to fully give himself away and Calum would know how to take completely.</p><p>-</p><p>The cabin was extremely isolated. Even without the heavy fog in the morning Calum still felt like they were floating in a sea of vapor. It seemed perhaps if the air stilled that the sky would remain perpetually grey, early morning becoming indiscernible from late evening. The cloud cover compelled him to become stagnant once again, he could feel time pausing and he knew if he didn’t find a way to pull himself from it, the following months would spill into each other and overlap, until every minute became one continual insignificant passing.</p><p>In the early morning the outside world was dark and thick mist rolled up from the river to pass the cabin in waves, moving across the windows to display a phantom in the shadows. Calum walked passed the occupied bathroom and into the bedroom to pull on a warm hoodie before returning to the kitchen to grab his tea, hastily screwing on the lid of his thermos as he slipped out the door into the cold.</p><p>Calum decided to sit by the river, hoping the chilly air would bring him back to earth and away from his progressively darkening thoughts. He clutched tightly to the drink in his hands, burning his fingers to ground himself as his mind followed his eyes, into the mist. He couldn’t recall what he had been thinking a moment ago, the idea imparted to the gloom. His thoughts felt like grains of sand flowing through his fingers, escaping the tight grasp he tried to rein on them, and he knew if he were to write the words down in a hurry, they were likely to fade from the page just as quick.</p><p>He found the river’s gentle current soothing as he watched the cold water slip between the stones to follow the riverbed smoothed by the influx of time. He inhaled deeply, lungs filling slowly with the scent of moss and decaying leaves.</p><p>At present in his life, Calum found that his routine inevitably consisted of minor miseries. Whether it was the dread of rising for work on Monday morning, terrible family dinners (of which he had the choice of attending or being permanently disowned), or being regularly rejected by peers. He felt shut out and trapped in at the same time. It was life presenting him with a bundle of insultingly mundane items, unfortunately tied together by the strong tug of fate. It seemed he was to face the same impasses until they wore him thin.</p><p>His stomach lurched at the memory of rejection that hurt most. He could remember harsh words spat at him by his father when he was only ten, telling him to leave and never come back. Calum had fled his house crying and clutching a school backpack full of his belongings. He must have run for miles because by the time he had stopped, it was dark. He had stumbled into a neighborhood park, his toothbrush falling from his bag, landing in the dust. The wind had dried his tears but he had refreshed the tracks earnestly then, in anguish over such a small thing. He had wiped off the dirt from the bristles to the best of his ability, heaving out choking sobs as he did so, unable to control himself.</p><p>A stranger found him eventually. They were kind to him, spoke gently, and didn’t hurt him. He was lucky. He had refused to tell them his address, he didn’t want to go back and confront his father; didn’t have the strength. But they had found his Mother’s number on the side of his bag and took him home. His tears spent, he had stared silently out the window, stomach churning at the thought of being told to leave again. But his father wasn’t there when he returned, just his mother with open arms. She wasn’t great at many things but she was capable of holding him, and she did until daylight.</p><p>That night his father had been drinking, he cursed Calum from the house, then left himself, getting into his truck and finding the highway. His body was discovered in a ditch a few days later.</p><p>Sometimes, Calum felt like pulling his hair and yelling, pleading with the world to listen to him. </p><p>Maybe that was a bit dramatic, and his mother would have thought so, of course. The idea of emotions seemed improper to her, there was a severe lack of expressing them growing up. He knew she loved him but he never felt it, she didn’t know how to show it, he supposed. Calum had no doubt she would be disappointed in him now, he was traversing a life she would call weak and would think beneath her.</p><p>That is, if she was still alive.</p><p>Calum had done his best to be happy after she left him on his own. Though it seemed every dream he followed dissipated as he reached for it.</p><p>A few months ago he was mistakenly CC'd on an email from his coworkers, in it they had called him manic, unpredictable, and a workaholic. They had exhibited an adequate display of their distaste for him, while in the same room, they spoke about him like he wasn't there, on break he was left alone, and in meetings they always sat one chair away. He used to cry about the isolation and judgment he received from those around him. Now, he couldn't bring himself to care. It seemed he stopped caring about a lot of things a while ago.</p><p> </p><p>Ashton sat beside him on his chosen rock, startling him from his thoughts, and Calum offered him the thermos. Ashton took it and sipped from it loudly - Calum assumed it was for comedic effect.</p><p>“Eugh, that’s disgusting. What is that?” He held the drink in front of him, scowling as if it had personally offended him.</p><p>Calum laughed. “I found it in the pantry. It’s black licorice, I think.”</p><p>“You’re more than welcome to finish it.” Ashton said, returning it to him. His hand fell next to Calum’s, carefully linking their fingers together.<br/>
Calum knew Ashton could recognize when he was thinking too much, so he wasn’t surprised when he asked, “What’s on your mind?”</p><p>Calum shrugged. “Not much.” He was evading the question, hoping if Ashton cared he would pry further.</p><p>“You’re thinking about something, I can tell, you’ve been strange for months now. But it’s been going on for even longer, hasn’t it?”</p><p>Calum stared out into the water, acting as if he had not heard. He always found peace in the silence of waiting to answer, Ashton knew if he was still that Calum would share.</p><p>“I - it feels like I’m at a conclusion,” Calum started. “As if this place started pulling at this part of me that was already unfolding, asking to take down barriers I’ve always had. I guess I relate to it in a way, the house, it’s… sort of like it knows me? That sounds weird but I can find similarities to my life on the dirty floor and in the empty cupboards, I just - I don’t know. I feel haunted, in a non-ghosty way.”</p><p>Ashton shifted, staring pensively at where their thighs brushed. “This place is beautiful though, it doesn’t take more than a look around to know that. If you encompass any traits of that old cabin then the ground and the trees and the weather follow.”</p><p>“Have you seen the sky? It’s gray!” He protested.</p><p>“Yes, but it’s also strong and reassuring.” Ashton gripped his hand firmly. “Cal, you’re not only the darkness of your past but also an impression of every lovely thing you’ve encountered.”</p><p>Calum looked at him in disbelief but his gaze was steady.</p><p>“You’re ridiculous.” He shook his head and looked away again.</p><p>“Hey, I mean it. You have plenty of good in you, despite what others may notice or how you think you present. And I love you for all of it.”</p><p>“Stop it.” Calum blushed.</p><p>“No, I mean it. I love you.”</p><p>Calum stood abruptly, feeling overwhelmed. He turned towards the house and suggested, “We should go for a picnic.”</p><p>-</p><p>After the quiet morning, most of the cloud cover disappeared and Calum and Ashton decided to walk a short distance into the valley for lunch. The sun was shining as they settled in the field, laying out a blanket on the dry grass under the shade of a tree. They had quickly become distracted from lunch, struck by picking blackberries from a bush invading the edge of the clearing. Calum was selfishly dropping ripe berries into his mouth and only occasionally remembering to place a few into his bowl while he considered the salient flavor on his tongue.</p><p>An overripe berry popped between his fingers and the dark juice ran down the side of his palm reminding him of - <em>blood</em>. </p><p>Suddenly, he was nineteen again, coming home from work on a Wednesday. </p><p>Exhausted and thoughtless, he had been banging around the house looking for something to eat when he heard a loud thud. Somehow Calum had known. He had known when he got home he supposed, something had felt off, but he had chosen to ignore it, overlooking the strange metallic smell, the burnt food in the pan on the stove, and the lingering stillness.</p><p>He had passed through the living room and treaded lightly up the carpeted stairs. The hallway leading to his mother’s bedroom seemed long and Calum could recall staring at the scratch marks that lined her oak door, a reminder of the old cat she insisted on keeping. At the time he had been thinking of sanding it down and varnishing it again, he was not focused on what would lie beyond it, inside the dark room. The hinges squeaking as the door swung inward had irked him, he would need to oil it soon, he had thought. He had been annoyed, not worried, as he should have been. He had been vexed that he had to take care of the house and constantly clean up after his mother.</p><p>Calum quickly realized he would only have to clean up after her one last time when he saw her on the floor, face down in a pool of her own blood. </p><p>The room reeked of urine and he pinched his nose, turning to leave. However, soft orchestra music was playing from her ipod. He didn’t want to waste the battery, so he paused it, leaving the device on the bed. He was tired, and he would clean the mess in the morning after breakfast. </p><p>Calum shut the door.</p><p>It had been almost four years since that day and his mother was lurking in his mind of late, the anniversary of her death wasn’t far away. Maybe that was why the urge to get away from the world, if only for a little while, had been so strong. Perhaps it was his brain telling him to sort through the mess in his head. There were plenty of things he did not take the time to process in his life and maybe her death was one of them.</p><p>But he had figured, if they didn’t get along when she was living, why should he need to come to terms with her death?</p><p> </p><p>Calum pulled another handful of blackberries from the bush, dropping them into the bowl he held. The thorns were pointed and frequently caught his hand, prickly but more of a nuisance than actually painful. Ashton was beside him, diligent in his own work, while Calum grew distracted with his thoughts and was actually eating more than he was picking. </p><p>He was hot and uncomfortable and the mid-afternoon sun was beginning to bear down, causing sweat to pool on the back of his neck. He wanted to make a pie, but didn’t know how much fruit they would need to make it, so he lingered, growing increasingly agitated with the barbed plant pressing into his tender skin, finally crying out in frustration when a sharp thorn drew blood. He pulled away and hissed as blood welled on the tip of his finger.</p><p>Ashton moved towards him, gently taking his hand to inspect it. In a second of consideration, he carried Calum’s hand to his mouth and placed a kiss there before shifting the injured finger between his lips to pull away the blood with his tongue.</p><p>“Careful,” Ashton told him, stepping away again.</p><p>-</p><p>After filling a few containers with berries they sat in the field, watching the sun progress down towards the top of the trees.</p><p>“Are you thinking of her?” Ashton asked, somehow ever aware of Calum’s thoughts.</p><p>“No,” He denied. He was, but he didn’t want to, didn’t understand why it was important that he did. She wasn’t significant to him when she was alive and he didn’t want to pretend that she was now.</p><p>“It’s okay to miss her.”</p><p>Calum glared at him, arguing. “I don’t -” Ashton quirked a disbelieving brow. “ - miss her. Believe me, all thoughts I have towards her are resentful.”</p><p>“What are you thinking then?”</p><p>“That I’d like to not talk about this.” Calum began to lay out the food they had brought onto the patterned blanket. He knew he was being prickly, probably because he really did care. Ashton went on,</p><p>“I've told you about my experience with death. It happened that night after we met again at the party, and it was entirely impersonal, you know that. I only stumbled across them behind the trash bin because I was drunk. Everything was hazy, and I didn’t know them, they weren’t my family.”</p><p>“I didn’t love her,” Calum said quietly. “Not like I was supposed to.”</p><p>“But seeing someone like that, hollowed out after their suffering, it can linger in your mind, even if it wasn’t personal. If you don’t deal with it, it’ll become a millstone pulling you away from living your life. But if you do… perhaps it can release you. Maybe you could write it out, or even just talk it through? I used to be afraid of the inevitability that we all fall victim to death in the end, and then I started to talk about it, open up about my fears with someone I trusted and now…”</p><p>“And now?” Calum looked at him.</p><p>“Now, I -“ He tapped his hand against his knee, absently looking outwards as he searched for the words. “It no longer scares me.”</p><p>“I don’t see death as limiting. I think it's freeing if anything.” Calum conceded.</p><p>“I think death gives us the freedom to experience life fully. It’s always a possibility that we’re here in one moment but gone the next hour.”</p><p>“That’s all the more reason to enjoy what we have now then, rather than worrying about inevitability,” Calum added. </p><p>To find their thoughts in harmony was a crushing relief and it reminded Calum that he had someone who continually understood him.</p><p>“When I found my mother,” He continued. “I didn’t feel afraid, or at a loss - I didn’t really feel anything. I was thinking about the house and how I needed to fix her door. That should probably worry me but I can't bring myself to care.” Calum pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, how did you feel, when you…?”</p><p>Ashton inhaled deeply before saying, “I think I was confused, I didn’t know why they were there, or what brought them to such a position. But it was funny to me, afterward, when I had learned the whole story.” He fiddled with a weed between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it apart and flicking the pieces into the field.</p><p>“Suppose we’re both relatively unaffected by death then.” Calum sighed. “When I consider it I don’t think it would bother me to do it, you know?”</p><p>“What? To - to kill someone? Yeah, maybe. I would never go out of my way to hurt anyone though, ever. But I don’t find death enormously vile. I actually considered investing myself into something like mortuary science.”</p><p>“Really?” Calum asked, surprised to learn something new about his partner. “I cannot see you doing that, you’re so - you, I guess. You’re just good at the job you have now.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Ashton turned to him, eyes pinched against the sharp sun. “You’re good at your job, too.”</p><p>“Please,” Calum tossed his head back, wanting to laugh. “I would kill to work somewhere else, everyone hates me there.” His voice stubbornly cracked on the word hate, he never let it show how much it bothered him.</p><p>“No, consider it, you’re good with people, good at talking them into things and down from tempers, even if it is just with a good coffee and the correct paperwork.”</p><p>Calum considered rebuking him, but his compliment was genuine, he knew it was true. He had always interacted with the others that way, in a race to please them before they inevitably stepped over him. When he was younger he had worked with kids and genuinely considered pediatrics or a facet of psychotherapy (which was funny because he never got along with his own mother, he didn’t know why he ever thought he could help others strengthen their familial relationships). It never happened however, things were too expensive or his grades had dropped off. Or his mother had died. Now he was stuck at a job that made him feel like -</p><p>“Hey,” Ashton pressed his thumb to Calum’s brow, tilting his face back towards him. It pulled him from his thoughts and he focused on Ashton's assuring gaze, glad to be there with him.</p><p>“Thanks,” He muttered looking down again. Ashton leant back on his elbows, taking Calum’s hand and pressing his lips there.</p><p>“I’m hungry.”</p><p>Calum laughed, glad to not be the one changing the subject for once.</p><p>-</p><p>The sun settled on the horizon, bright and hot and heavy in the air, forcing away the lingering clouds to bare a dark blue sky. Calum was laying on his back, hand caressing the quilted blanket beneath him, tracing over the embroidered patterns thoughtfully. His head rested on Ashton’s lap while the older boy read a book, his fingers carding gently through Calum’s hair, occasionally catching a knot. Calum grasped a piece of fruit and placed it between his teeth, humming when the flavor coated his tongue.</p><p>“Read it aloud,” Calum requested. Ashton’s hand paused in his hair as he turned the page, the paper scraping across his other thumb. He inhaled, the rise of his stomach bumping Calum’s cheek, and he watched as Ashton’s light eyes scanned the page. He read,</p><p>“… <em>and lovely laughing - oh it puts the heart in my chest on wings for when I look at you, even a moment, no speaking is left in me</em>…”</p><p>Calum listened distantly as he finished the verse and then closed the book, putting it beside them on the short green turf.</p><p>“You put my heart on wings.” Ashton said candidly. Calum would have teased anyone else mercilessly for saying something so cheesy, and it <em>was</em> cheesy, but Ashton was so sincere when he spoke so Calum let him off the hook.</p><p>Instead, Calum leant upward and kissed him on the cheek, moving away with a soft smile. He then turned and pulled his knees to his chest, laying his head in the dip there. Ashton pressed a lasting kiss between his shoulder blades, against the cotton of his t-shirt and Calum sighed, content to take in the sunlight while Ashton’s hand circled his back.</p><p>-</p><p>Nights there were not peaceful. 

Calum woke up in a fit the second evening, shirt stuck to his back with sweat, nails biting into his palms. He wasn’t screaming, his voice was stuck in his throat. He clawed at his own neck uselessly trying to pull his voice out and choking on it. Arms came around him and he battled them off, grabbing and pushing, his feet fighting for purchase on the clean linen. When his vision cleared moments later he saw Ashton staring at him, not afraid but concerned. Calum glanced at the analog clock on the bedside table, <em>5:30</em>.</p><p>“I’m going to get up,” He said like he wasn’t already backing away, halfway out the door.</p><p>He entered the bathroom, turning the cool brass knobs on the tub. The rushing water mixed with the sound of the rain outside and soothed him a bit as he rubbed his still damp shoulder. He couldn’t remember his dream, he rarely did, but the feeling that they possessed carried on well after dawn. </p><p>A mild case of delirium was setting in, mixed with an inexcusable sense of dread. It was as peaceful and as it was tormenting.</p><p>He couldn’t help but want it to last.</p><p> </p><p>Calum sank into the hot water, the heavy ripples mixing in the lavender essentials he added. The bathroom was his favorite part of the house, from it he could view the river and enclosing forest through the large curving window. He pulled his knees to his chest and let his head fall into the arc of the tub, watching as rain spattered gently against the glass and paraded toward the ground in small crowds. He allowed the soft scent of soap and herbs to soak into his skin, hoping to exude the strange feeling the cabin had given him. He brushed his hand through the water and splashed the clouded liquid onto his arm; drawing fingers across skin.</p><p>The building settled, against the possibility for a place of such age to shift further, the floorboards fit tightly into their neighbors, tiles melded together, and shingles pinned each other in place, it was a cacophony of almost silent noise that never actually spoke. But Calum heard anyway. He strained to understand what they were saying, it was important, a warning, urgency doubled with the lingering anxiety from his dream.</p><p>His brain pushed conflict with his stomach. Brain, somersaulting toward some explanation, away from hysteria and into reason. Stomach, craving, stirring into the madness, against orders, it bubbled over the rim, the steam enticing but suffocating. He didn’t know what he wanted, but the house seemed to say he would discover it soon. Perhaps he already had.</p><p>Calum returned to bed shortly after, his nerves from the dream calmed and feeling pleasantly warm from the bath. He cuddled against his sleeping partner, slipping his hands under Ashton’s vest.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Calum whispered silently against his shoulder, only wanting to feel the brush of his lips against the other’s skin before he fell into a dreamless sleep.</p><p>-</p><p>It seemed that the previous day would be the only one of sun as the rain had begun an unforgiving deluge on the outside world.</p><p>Calum occupied his time by baking a blackberry pie as his mother would have. It was a tribute to her and the smell reminded him of her scent, the one that had clung to her pillowcases and clothes even months after her death. The stains on his hands, however, reminded him of her blood.</p><p>He was working at the sink, cleaning the dishes, scrubbing away residue, applying soap, then rinsing. Scrub, soap, rinse. Scrub, soap - before he had quite realized it, there was blood, the plate he was holding was coated in it, dripping into the basin. Calum dropped the dish and it shattered at his feet.</p><p>He quickly plunged his hands into the scalding water, scraping with his fingernails, agitated and a bit desperate to remove the blood-like stain residue of the blackberries from his hands.</p><p>He had not fully comprehended his own distress until he heard whimpering, disbelieving that it came from his own mouth. He was crying openly, salty tears pouring into the water below. His hands gripped tightly at the edge of the sink, his knuckles marred bruised and bloody.</p><p>“It wasn’t my fault - I <em>didn’t</em> kill her. I didn’t, I promise.” He tried to convince himself.</p><p>A choked sound came from his throat and he covered his mouth ashamed that it was his own body that had created it. It was his incessant weakness on display. He tried to steady his breathing and soap-suds stuck to the corner of his mouth and hair as he pushed it back.</p><p>Calum finished his task, picking up the shattered plate and ignoring the trail of tears running off his face.</p><p>-</p><p>It seemed the longer they stayed at the cabin the further suspended Calum became in his own anxiety. </p><p>On their second full-day, he began to drift into hopelessness, becoming so lost in the heavy scenery surrounding the cabin that time seemed to pass faster than it actually had. He could’ve been at that house for ten years or five minutes and the length would have felt the same to him.</p><p>He supposed that could be the goal for an extended weekend getaway, to allow time and the world to melt away for a little while. But Calum found it damaging because his state only deteriorated as he lost sight of reality. He could remember being a kid and becoming so lost in a fantasy world that he would forget to eat. The ache of his stomach had never bothered him then, but it did now, and he ached for something different. A strange unfulfilled hunger. </p><p>Calum ached and he ached and he ached. </p><p>He wished it would stop.</p><p> </p><p>It was on their third night there that Calum could not sleep. He had drifted briefly in and out of consciousness and eventually sat up. He ground the palms of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars, thinking maybe he could forcefully make himself pass out. He gave up trying after too long, looking to his left where Ashton should be sleeping, only to find that he had left their bed.</p><p>Curious, he rose and looked out into the hallway to see the bathroom was empty, the light off. He moved through the doorway and was surprised to hear voices, dark, hushed, and urgent. They were coming from the kitchen, and there he found Ashton standing with someone, a girl, one arm pressed to the counter behind her and the other holding a knife to her stomach, trapping her there.</p><p>“Ash,” Calum said, startled. They both turned to look at him. Beneath the fear in the girl’s eyes there was a challenging glint, like she could read his character and knew he wouldn't harm her. “What’s happening? Who are you?”</p><p>“Please let me explain. I can tell you everything if you just put the knife down.” The girl spoke first, and Calum noticed that the knife was hurting her, her skin pressing into the sharp of the blade on each inhale of breath.</p><p>“Let her explain, Ash,” Calum requested and Ashton stepped away, nodding to him as the knife hung loosely from his hand. Calum watched her closely, feeling he was rightfully wary. “Who are you?”</p><p>“I’m Raposa.” She paused to inhale nervously, wringing her shaking hands. “My father owned land not far from here, I was looking for shelter or the main road. I didn’t mean to steal your food, I swear I wouldn’t have, if only I wasn’t so hungry.” It was only yesterday that they had noticed a few things were missing from the refrigerator, the extra blackberries, and plums they had brought, gone.</p><p>“How long have you been here?” He asked, although her appearance alluded to her extended stay. Dirt plastered Raposa’s clothing and she had only one shoe on, the other foot almost black with dirt and dried blood. Her red hair was a messy crown upon her head, webbed and woven with leaves and sticks. Raposa was corpse-like in the way her skin hung off her frame, dark circles clinging beneath her eyes.</p><p>“A couple of weeks.”</p><p>“What about your family, your father?”</p><p>"He was shot. I didn't have anywhere else to go, for weeks I..." She shook her head and Calum instantly took pity on her. It would be cruel to kick her out, they were leaving the next day and could make sure she got somewhere safe, maybe with another relative.</p><p>“Alright, you should stay here for tonight, yeah? Tomorrow we’ll take you into town. Do you have any other relatives around here?”</p><p> </p><p>Calum grabbed an apple and made the girl some toast while Ashton prepared a space for her on the couch, building up the fire again. Throughout the interaction, the three of them maintained a safe distance from each other, the tension in the room uneasy. Ashton kept the kitchen knife in his hand or in reach beside him on the counter, and Calum noticed the girl eyeing it uncertainly. </p><p>When Raposa was finally settled they both returned to bed.</p><p>-</p><p>Lying back on the mattress Calum was once again stuck in the place between sleeping and waking. He thought he had been awake since returning to bed, staring at the ceiling, but he must have drifted off at some point because he couldn’t remember seeing someone standing in the corner of the room.</p><p>He shot up, eyes meeting the intruder. It was her, eyes bright and angry. Raposa lunged at him, hands bared, ready to attack, she landed on top of him, dirty talons finding root at his neck. He grappled to push her away, resulting in his head hitting the wall. Everything went blurry and the room pulsed, he could no longer see his attacker’s face.</p><p>He focused on the weight pinning him, the girl was light and Calum managed to unbalance her by kicking his legs. Raposa tipped off the side of the bed and brought him to the floor with her. The hardwood bruised his knees and he distantly registered a glass vase shattering to his left. </p><p>He had the advantage now as he knelt above Raposa, her hand falling from his neck. It struck him that she didn’t seem afraid that he could easily overpower her, only -</p><p>Raposa scratched at his face and they began to tussle on the floor. Her hands gripped in weak fists as she punched upward, occasionally scratching at him, grabbing his skin beneath her nails. Her attempts began to diminish and Calum found he could bat away her strikes easily, sitting up and watching her struggle briefly.</p><p>For a moment, he thought that she would tire and give up, but she hooked his leg and flipped them over with surprising ease. </p><p>While Calum was pinned beneath her she took a moment to catch her breath. His eyes followed Raposa’s face closely, her brows furrowed and mouth open in anger. He was waiting to strike. He surged upwards, tangling his hand in her dirty locks, pulling her by the hair back to the floor, her head slamming down onto it loudly. He lifted her head and repeated the motion, the thud satisfying as her face knocked against the hardwood.</p><p>Even with his advantage, Calum failed to see the small shard of glass she had grabbed. Aiming for whatever bit of flesh she could reach, she plunged the weapon into his upper arm. He cried out and let her go, his hand reaching the wound and pulling away red.</p><p>Calum's world gave pause and then came back in a flash, feeling a stinging pain as he was once again thrown to the floor, her hands connecting with his neck. He could feel his airways closing in. Her palms pressing down hard on his throat in a messy hold. He gasped, pulling in a strangled breath. She looked triumphant, giddy in the power she held over him, he couldn’t find fault in her for that.</p><p>But as he started to really choke, her face melted from joy into fright. Raposa’s features twisting painfully as an almost silent gasp fell from her lips. A warm splash of liquid covered his torso and he realized she was bleeding. Only Calum hadn’t hit her.</p><p>Raposa stood and staggered back, her hand grabbing her thigh where her pant leg was spattered faintly with blood. Ashton stood by the bed, holding a shard of the broken vase, it dripped red beside his feet. Raposa must have realized she was outmatched and ran from the room, leaving a trail of bloody teardrops in her wake.</p><p>Calum stood shakily, vision still blurry from his head being wounded twice, but the burning sensation in his arm seemed ignorable now. He looked at Ashton and there was an understanding between them as they both moved out into the living room to find that she was gone, the front door wide open.</p><p>-</p><p>In the woods, it was dark, the night and bitter air harmonizing to create a dark hum. Calum had forgone shoes and his foot bled as it caught on a sharp branch. He pressed on into the darkness, picking up on the trail of Raposa’s blood that looked almost black in the moonlight. He followed the path of her gore, the smeared clots on the trunks of the trees easy to find. The forest was stained with her.</p><p>He was chasing after her almost recklessly and Ashton had fallen behind him some time ago. It was difficult to see in the darkness and several times Calum thought he saw her hiding in the shadows, but when he paused, her phantom disappeared silently.</p><p>It had surprised him at first, how quiet she was when Ashton cut her, instead of screaming and spraying blood everywhere she had only quietly gasped and accepted the gentle flow spilling from her. She had left the house quickly and there would have been no trace of her if she was not bleeding so carelessly.</p><p>Calum finally found her body not far from the house, her heart was still beating, it was pounding steadily actually. Raposa had stopped to lean crouched against a tree and when he grabbed her shoulder she cried out. It made his stomach twist. He felt bad, he wanted her to feel better, to end her pain.</p><p>“Raposa, it’s only me.”</p><p>She shook her head and squirmed out of his grip, a bit of her shirt tearing along the way. One hand clutching her leg where the damage had been inflicted. The dark patch had grown, but not substantially so the wound probably wasn’t too severe.</p><p>“If you come back to the cabin we can help you. Ashton didn’t mean to hurt you, it was an accident. He feels… really bad.” Calum could tell his words had an adverse effect on her.</p><p>“No! You’re lying- stay back!” She stumbled backward as he steadily approached, placing one foot in front of the other.</p><p>“Shh. Shh - it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” The wild fear highlighted in her green eyes reminded him of an animal. That meant he was the hunter, luring his prey into a false sense of ease. “Just come back with me and we can sort this all out.” The assuring words left his mouth, never once truth.</p><p>Calum saw Ashton emerge from the trees behind Raposa, the kitchen knife in his hand, the silver blade flashing in the broken moonlight. He fixed his eyes back on the girl, a fox, she reminded Calum of a fox, he realized. Her eyes darted around, looking perhaps for a tree she could climb to escape her predators.</p><p>He was going to help her, he needed to alleviate her pain, but a sicker part of him was enjoying this. </p><p>He was enjoying her suffering. </p><p>Raposa whimpered as her hurried steps backwards pressed her against the trunk of a tree.</p><p>“Raposa.” Her name was like sandpaper on his tongue, he swallowed, moving past it. Saying her name felt like a connection, pulling on invisible rope, tugging her closer to the edge. Calum needed her to come to him, he wanted to take her back with him. He stepped forward again, hand out, reaching for her bloody own. “Raposa, please.”</p><p>For a moment her shoulders sagged, as if a blanket of security had fallen upon her, she considered him, her body language telling of her distrust, but perhaps she was willing to take his hand and let him help. But then it didn’t matter because Ashton was beside her, pulling the blade through her soft gut, a line forming like a smile, left to right, in her lower abdomen.</p><p>She fell to her knees, gasping in pain and shock. She cried out as she collapsed, her blood splashing onto the forest floor. Calum moved towards her, watching her wild, confused eyes. He could hear his own breathing, it was loud and heavy in its rhythm, inhaling deeply and pushing out shallowly. For a moment he was blinded by his own desire to reach her, imagining that he would never be able to.</p><p>But then she was on her back and crying out as he sat over her lower half, painful pressure on her bleeding stomach. Raposa’s hair spread out like a halo around her head, the moonlight making it glow gold. It reminded him, he thought distantly, of school when they were shown renaissance paintings of the dead saints with golden halos. Only Raposa was still yet living.</p><p>Calum placed his palms on her face, a face wide and terrified, he held onto her salty tears in his hands, wiping away the measure of her pain. As he leant in, his mouth by her ear, he thought about tasting her, her suffering, and her fear. She smelled like wind and sap and iron.</p><p>“Be still for me,” He whispered, moving a palm to grab the wrist she brought up to push him off, she was too weak with shock or pain. He pressed his lips to her cheek, the salt of her tears gathering on his tongue and flooding his mouth.</p><p>“I’m not going to hurt you,” He promised. She whimpered and he hushed her. “No, I only want to end your pain.” He shook his head. “That’s it,” brought the wrist he was gripping to the ground. “That’s it, that’s it,” He chanted, almost unaware the words fell from his lips. He smiled down at her, showing his teeth. </p><p>“Please, let me live. Don’t - don’t kill me.” She gasped. “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I’m sorry. Let me go, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to - “</p><p>Calum pressed both hands against her throat, finding her windpipe and closing her airway with his fingers. </p><p>Raposa choked, spit catching in her mouth and eyes wide as she struggled to rasp out something. He pressed harder. </p><p>Her legs spasmed and kicked behind him as she grasped and clawed at him with dirty fingernails. He pressed harder. </p><p>She was desperate to avoid the fate she had assigned him so easily earlier. Calum pressed harder and harder, feeling something crush beneath his palms. He knew Ashton was beside him, grappling with Raposa’s wild limbs and she paused, slackening under his grip, eyes rolling upwards. She struggled some more before her body gave way and fell uselessly against the ground. Calum sat there for longer than needed, staring at her lifeless and contorted face.</p><p>Her eyes were blank and empty, like a doll’s. He stared at her until he realized Ashton had collapsed beside him on his knees. Silence built around them with no interruption. Calum pulled off the doll eventually, blood staining the back of his pants and he knelt in front of his partner. Ashton seemed far away. Calum tried to lead him back by grasping his hand in his own, bringing it to his lips, the salt of her tears permeating there.</p><p>Calum looked to his left, and seeing the cave of her cut was covered by her shirt, he pulled it away, presenting the still warm liquid that oozed out in waves.</p><p>“Ash.” He blinked, no response.</p><p>“Ash.” Calum pulled his hand through her blood, collecting it in his palm and on his fingers. “Ashton.”</p><p>Ashton finally opened his mouth to say something, his eyes leaking emotion Calum already understood and felt in the base of his spine. Calum pressed his blood-covered thumb into Ashton’s open mouth, against his tongue, holding him still with his other palm. Calum quickly pushed three more of his dripping fingers into Ashton's mouth before he ripped away, turning to gag and spit. Ashton made an awful choking noise and heaved, trying to remove the taste of her from his mouth.</p><p>“You did this,” Calum said.</p><p>Ashton supported himself upright, palms flat on the ground, sobbing out. “No, no. I didn’t. I didn’t want her dead.”</p><p>That word seemed to still him. Dead. Calum looked back to Raposa, the fox, she <em>was</em> dead.</p><p>“We helped her.” He was firm about it, he knew it was true. At that moment, he felt deliciously satiated, the sounds of Ashton’s sobs and Her blood filling the packed earth beneath her body welcomed him into a state of freedom.</p><p>He felt right.</p><p>“Look at me.” Calum gripped his jaw and roughly pulled Ashton to watch him, he needed the other’s attention. The moonlight fell across Ashton’s face and caught the full details of his despair– perspiration across his forehead, wet eyes that refused to yield tears, and a downturned mouth, stained with red. Calum pushed the sweat off of his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair, leaving traces of blood that appeared dark in the moon's illumination. He pulled Ashton towards himself, a silent request for him to close his eyes, Calum pressed his mouth against his. He pushed further, tongue dragging across Ashton’s lower lip before pressing into his mouth, past his teeth. He sucked on Ashton’s tongue rolling the blood off of it, iron melting into the back of his throat.</p><p>Calum pulled away, rubbing his thumbs over Ashton's throat, massaging into the dips of muscle and applying slight pressure to close his airways. Ashton gasped lightly and he hummed. He was struggling to fill his lungs with air and it was familiar to Calum. It reminded him of the thudding excitement he had felt moments ago when Raposa was rasping under his hands, clinging to life, as her legs kicked and her mouth opened in a silent plea.</p><p>It thrilled him to see Ashton desperate for his touch but also for air, leaning into the pressure but exerting his lungs for another breath. When Calum finally loosened his grip, he spread the red blood from his hands onto Ashton’s damp skin watching as his throat moved against his fingers, a raspy breath, and a swallow. Calum leaned in and pressed his lips against his neck, enjoying the way Ashton shuddered under his touch. He pushed his lips beneath his jaw, behind his ear.</p><p>“We killed her.” Calum reminded him, opening his mouth to tug the soft flesh of his ear between his teeth, satisfied in the way it made the older boy squirm. He went on biting and sucking at Ashton’s throat until his hands were grabbing at Calum’s shirt, pulling him closer.</p><p>“Stop, please, we - she’s right there.” He shoved Calum away, looking at the body as if it might come back to life and reprimand him.</p><p>“She’s dead.” He said softly.</p><p>“I think I’m gonna be sick.” The realization of their actions sat heavily on Ashton’s face. His bent expression and the deep curve of his lower lip speaking of his distress. He looked teary-eyed and afraid.</p><p>“We found her in our house. We gave her a place to sleep and she tried to kill me, so you stabbed her, you stabbed her and enjoyed watching her bleed, I suffocated her and you didn't stop me.”</p><p>“No, we have to help her, we should - ” Ashton choked as he moved forward, Calum was pressing against his throat again, wanting to see him weak once more, to cultivate that glazed look in his eyes.</p><p>“We killed her.” Calum said firmly.</p><p>“Oh, god. We should call an ambulance. She might still be breathing.” Ashton fell back, fumbling around in his empty pockets, searching for his phone, which was useless because he didn’t have it on him, he hadn't since they got to this place.</p><p>“We killed her.” He hissed harshly.</p><p>“No! Please, please.” Tears fell from his eyes then, as he looked at Calum desperately.</p><p>“You killed her.” Calum pulled away, hands up in retreat, like Ashton was filthy for what he had done. And he was.</p><p>Ashton had begun to sob in earnest by then, moving and reaching for the body, pressing his hands to the open wound, as if he could stop the flow of blood. Calum grabbed his wrists, snapping them away from the still warm frame.</p><p>“Look at me.” Ashton shook his head. “Look at me.” Calum spat, slapping him with his free hand. Ashton gasped out a cut off sob as he complied, tears streaking down his face and smearing the blood on his neck, the blood that had transferred to Calum's lips and from his tongue to Ashton's collarbones.</p><p>“She is gone, do you hear me? It’s too late. Now look at her, do you see her eyes? See how they’re hard and blank, the way her face is twisted and contorted?” Calum looked then himself, confirming she was in a nightmarish state. “She reeks of death, she is dead. You and I <em>killed</em> her.”</p><p>Ashton nodded slowly, finally understanding and calming down a bit, the tears coming to an end.</p><p>“Yes,” He sniffled, wiping at his face, dark red staining his cheeks. “We - we killed her, oh my god.” He laughed and there was a change in his face. “Oh my - fuck. I stabbed her and you -“ he looked at Calum with clear eyes, his hand lifted to his own throat, probably feeling the phantom press of Calum’s fingers there. He moved his hand up further, towards his lips, tasting her blood, licking a large stripe of it into his mouth.</p><p>Ashton grabbed his face and kissed him roughly, pushing his copper-coated tongue against Calum’s teeth, filthy in the transfer, blood spilling down both their chins. Ashton bit down on his lip, hard, and Calum jerked back in pain as it throbbed. His lip bleeding onto his chin, mixing his blood with her’s, the fox. Calum shivered at the thought of their deaths becoming intertwined. He laughed, seeing every passing emotion reflected back at him in Ashton's eyes. Soon they were laughing together, an insane relief pushing them to hysterics. They picked each other up, Calum gripping Ashton's biceps as he stumbled, before they were running together, hand in hand.</p><p>-</p><p>The next morning Calum woke up in a tight embrace. His eyes fluttered open, noticing first the soft light pouring in through the window.</p><p>“Morning,” Ashton said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Calum smiled, responding in kind before looking at the clock, it read <em>9:28</em>. “We should leave soon, don’t want to get back too late.”</p><p>Calum stretched and nodded in agreement, knowing they would need to plan to take the two and a half hour trip back into the city with enough time to spare before dinner that evening. They eventually both rose, Ashton leaving first to make breakfast and Calum following shortly. After they ate they both finished packing silently, side by side.</p><p>Calum grabbed both of their bags, taking the short gravel walk to the car, the soft grinding crunch of the rocks beneath him the only sound in the woods. It had been so quiet, their stay here, beyond the current of the river it was difficult to believe any living creature inhabited the nearby trees.</p><p>Ashton followed behind him, sticking the key in the lock of the trunk and opening it for their luggage. Calum tossed in their bags while Ash grabbed the last of their things from inside. Absently, he watched the ground beneath his feet as he waited, noticing some of the stones were stained, in the right light it would look just like mud. But Calum knew what it was, he knew it was blood. He swiped his foot over the ground turning over the rocks to disguise the dark pattern. It was useless however, because anyone looking closely at the stains would be able to follow the trail into the woods. Calum’s stomach ached at the memory of the night before.</p><p>When they got back to the cabin, Ashton had pulled him into the bathroom, the fading moonlight the only thing illuminating the space. He had undressed both of them and filled the tub with water. It was cold when Calum sat in it, forcing the air from his lungs. He had heaved in a choked breath, recalling before when the air in his own lungs had been threatened. But then a warm hand was on his shoulder and Ashton was beside him and he could breathe again. He scrubbed at Calum's hands with a cloth, the water turning murky as he cleaned both of them, finally wiping the blood from Calum’s face and neck, the last of it staining his mouth.</p><p>Calum’s shoulder had continued to bleed, the stinging pain serving as a reminder of the glass that had been stuck there, and despite his quiet protests, Ashton insisted that he look it over. He had applied a bandage to little avail, without constant pressure the wound bled through it and they had to use a towel to stop the flow, staining the white cloth and the counter it was left on, red.</p><p>Just before dawn they had fallen back into bed, Calum’s wound dry and Ashton’s hands clean, curled into each other, breathing deeply but not sleeping. Calum’s body was ready to move, to get up and run, but his mind was content to lay there, warm and solid beneath the sheets. Calum didn’t move, he didn’t consider cleaning up the makeshift bed in the living room or sweeping up the glass beside their bed, he just lay there, replaying in his mind what they had done, the edges of it blurry and fading like a dream.</p><p> </p><p>Ashton returned to the car, placing the last of their things in the back and closing the trunk before turning to admire the house as he got in his seat. Calum looked a bit longer, noticing where the wood siding had become worn and stained with age, where the metal hinges on the windows and door had begun to rust, and where the cobwebs filled the left side of the porch in layers.</p><p>Calum knew he would remember the smooth stream, the calm valley and the muddy hills, he knew he would remember the solitude that had intrigued and haunted him here, but he would not remember her. He would not remember the girl they had met and promised life but delivered death.</p><p>The one they had left in the woods somewhere.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by the Hozier song ‘In the Woods Somewhere’</p><p>The quote Ashton reads is fragment 31 of Sappho from ‘If not, winter’ translated by Anne Carson.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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